


you should see him

by seasofgreen



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene, Simon POV, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasofgreen/pseuds/seasofgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You alright?" Kieren asks, voice quiet but still the loudest thing ringing in Simon's ears. Because he would, he would be standing here holding himself from shaking apart and asking Simon if he's the one that's okay. [s2e4 missing scene; Simon and Kieren at the bungalow post lunch from hell.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	you should see him

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas present for [van](http://gummyseacreatures.tumblr.com). ♥  
> I haven't written these characters before so I hope it's decent, ahhhh.

The bungalow is silent, as silent the air around them has been since Kieren stood and walked out of his own house, becoking Simon to follow him with a word and the tilt of his head. The walk back had been silent, too, Kieren only curling his hand around Simon's wrist when they were down the street and around the corner from the Walker house. Even then, their hands had been hidden by their jackets, just in case, and Simon could feel the tension ebbing and flowing off Kieren in waves.  

Simon can't feel the coolness of the cloth that he knows is present when Kieren brushes it against his face, but the dull ache he's felt in his chest all day from the moment he'd put on the cover-up hurts all the same - wedged between things he can't even begin to describe. The gentle hands on his face start to shake, with anger or fear or sadness Simon doesn't know. Maybe a combination of all three, maybe the adrenaline and shock leaving a body that doesn't know how to cope with it anymore, a body that never knew how to in the first place. Kieren continues his task dutifully, eyes never leaving Simon's and Simon has to ball his hands into fists at his side to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing and Kieren's cold fingers. He doesn't have to do this, Simon knows, but he chooses to. 

"You alright?" Kieren asks, voice quiet but still the loudest thing ringing in Simon's ears. Because he would, he would be standing here holding himself from shaking apart and asking Simon if he's the one that's okay. He doesn't want to say that the family lunch could have gone worse, ended in a photo of a mother long gone - he can't even make out her face, now - and a house that wasn't a home anymore. _Get out, monster!_

"Yeah." Simon replies, the word hitching at the end as Kieren trails the cloth down over his chin in slow, measured strokes, exploring the angles of his neck and jawline, where the cover-up gives way to pale, pale skin. He's focused as he works, watching the process with something like reverence, and Simon knows that this is as much an apology as it is a thank you. Kieren still has smears of the stuff all over his own face, an empty streak across his cheek cutting through the unnatural tinge of tan and orange that says I'm normal, I'm harmless, I'm compliant, I'm _nothing, nothing to see here, not even a person._

"Good." Kieren smiles, a lock of ginger hair falling across his eyes - his real eyes, milky white and pure. He peers up at Simon like he's a puzzle he just can't figure out, and the dull ache in Simon's chest flashes strong and bright. Something flashes in his eyes then, and Simon is getting better at knowing this boy because he's on Kieren before Kieren's on him, unclenching his fists and bringing them to cover Kieren's cheeks, cup his face, keeping him safe and locked away from everything. 

This is why they're fighting, why the Undead Liberation Army has to keep on, what Kieren doesn't understand, what he can't understand, they way he is. Simon can't make the world a better place for Kieren on his own. He's unwilling to see what's wrong with the world, and it's silly and idealistic but at the same time Kieren's opinion matters - he's a shred of something worth hanging onto in a world made shit by everything else. They need this, the press of skin on skin and lips on lips, and this time no one is here to stop them, no contacts, no makeup, no hiding. 

 In the back of his mind, Simon thinks, _would the prophet understand?_

_He would,_ his mind supplies helpfully, _he sent you here._

 Kieren makes a noise in the back of his throat and Simon wraps one of his arms around his Kieren's waist, holding him in place through his thin layers. Kieren's hands scrabble for a perch on Simon's jacket, wedge themselves in between the buttons of his shirt - not to take it off, but to try to feel. Cover-up leaves nasty stains on the white linen and the cloth in Kieren's hand flutters uselessly to the ground, but they don't notice and don't care. Kieren steps on Simon's shoes for better leverage, and their noses bump together with no finesse. Simon barks out a laugh that's smothered by Kieren's mouth - something that could be considered one, anyway - using the hand still on his face to tilt him to the right angle. 

Simon slides his mouth off Kieren's and down the sharp side of his jaw in an opened-mouth movement, not a kiss necessarily - a soft movement that makes any words in Kieren's throat stutter to a halt, a soft noise rising from him as Simon's mouth finds his again, Kieren pressing forward almost aggressively, like he missed Simon so impossibly much in the few seconds their mouths weren't pressed together.  

They break apart once more, and Kieren makes a snuffling sound as slides off Simon, tucking his face under Simon's chin and letting his fingers innocently toy with the buttons on the other's shirt. Simon's own hands loosen their grip on Kieren but don't let go.

He can't let go.  

They're silent, for a long time, standing in the silence of Amy's bungalow, hair mussed and clothes askew. Kieren leans in, once, presses a kiss to the seam of Simon's lips before drawing back. 

"I feel..lighter, somehow." he says, picking his head up but still pressed against Simon. "Thank you." 

"It's nothin'," Simon says in reply, even though he knows it's everything, just _being here_ is everything to Kieren. 

"That was the first time I really talked about it with them, you know. What it was like. Not what anyone _told_ me to say but what I-" He doesn't finish his sentence, and Simon reaches out and moves a hand through Kieren's hair. He should be shouting his story from the rooftops, Simon thinks, this beautiful thing brought back. 

Kieren Walker - the First Risen. 

Simon jumps back with a shock, releasing Kieren, who stumbles a half-step before regaining his footing. Simon can feel, _feel_ , the dull ache in himself twisting and curdling. 

Kieren blinks in surprise but doesn't say anything at Simon's sudden movements, just looks up with big, wide, white eyes. There's trust in them now, Simon knows. 

"Simon?" Kieren asks, and in that moment he chooses. 

He's got to tell them, the ULA, his prophet. That's why he came here in the first place, placed on a righteous path that led him, here, to this moment. This exact moment: finding the first risen. Maybe now with the written words coming true Kieren can finally be safe, this beautiful boy in a world that treats him so horribly, that doesn't deserve him. He swallows the ache in his chest that's threatening to swallow him whole, and his arms find Kieren again, and his brow furrows for a moment before he wraps arms around Simon in turn. 

He's not worthy of this, but he'll try for Kieren. This _beautiful_ boy. 


End file.
